


the deadliest game

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: bless the children of the beast {charlotte & lola AU} [7]
Category: The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, KNIFE MONOPOLY, Knifeplay, Mild Blood, Nikki and Lola are Assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: Motley Crue, Lola, Charlotte, Peach, and Eileen play Knife Monopoly. It goes about as well as you could expect.
Relationships: Nikki Sixx/Original Female Character(s), Vince Neil/Original Female Character(s)
Series: bless the children of the beast {charlotte & lola AU} [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685215
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	the deadliest game

**Author's Note:**

> BIG WARNING THERE’S SO MANY KNIVES. KNIVES, INJURY, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, CUTTING AND STABBING BUT NOT IN A SERIOUS WAY, JUST LIKE A FUN LITTLE STAB, BUT STILL THERE’S SERIOUS KNIFE PLAY. it’s not sexual but i still don’t think its sfw. @lemonadexmouth and @misscharlottelee i hope i did your girls at least a little bit proud haha. MC might be a bit oc, sorry!

When Charlotte hears the words _Knife Monopoly_ leave Tommy’s mouth one unassuming Friday afternoon in the _Motley House_ , she’s instantly sent back a whole five years, to the Bass family garage, and Athena, all of thirteen years old, screeching in triumph while Tommy, barely fifteen, swore a blue streak, amid begging Charlotte not to tell his dad. They’d ignored her warnings, her _jousting with steak knives is not a better alternative to regular auctions,_ and as such, Tommy had underestimated his vicious and competitive little sister, and ended up with a knife half an inch deep in the heel of his palm. 

“ _You’re so fucking stupid_ ,” Charlotte, sixteen, tells him.

“ _Get fucked_!” Athena had crowed, knife still a little bloody as she raised it in triumph. 

“ _Language, ‘Thena_ ,” Charlotte reminded her, searching amid Tommy’s various musical supplies for any sort of cloth to stem the bleeding.

“ _I just won Knife Monopoly I can do whatever I want_!” Athena responded, looking a little bit crazy, brandishing her knife at Charlotte, who just regarded her with flat unamusement. 

“ _Go get me bandages_ ,” she instructed the younger girl, cutting her off before she can even begin to protest, “ _or I’ll tell your mom it was your idea_.”

“ _She won’t_ -”

“ _You_ stabbed Tommy!”

“ _It was his suggestion! It’s his fault he got stabbed!_ ” But she complies anyways, and sulks the whole time. Tommy doesn’t play Knife Monopoly with his little sister after that, or around Charlotte either, though according to some of his friends at school, he hasn’t exactly quit the game cold turkey.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Charlotte calls from the bathroom where she’s helping dye the ends of Lola’s hair bright red, the moment the memory passes. It’s all over her hands, it already looks like blood; this all feels too familiar.

“ _Char-lee_ ,” Tommy practically whines, and Charlotte steps out of the bathroom to scowl at him, even as Lola protests. 

“Okay but what _is Knife Monopoly_?” Nikki is far too intrigued for his own good -

“ _No.”_ Charlotte says, firmer this time, “it’s _dumb as hell_. And it _always_ ends with Tommy _getting stabbed_.”

“Not always!” Tommy protests, “I’ve stabbed Vince a few times,” like that makes it any better.

“Sign me up!” Nikki’s eyes are always alight with some terrible and dangerous enthusiasm, and Charlotte regrets ever meeting him, and proceeds to, in great and embarrassing detail, retell the story of the first ever game of Knife Monopoly. Tommy looks like he’s bitten a lemon by the time she’s finished. Nikki is clearly not swayed.

“I got better at it,” Tommy actually pouts.

“I’d hope so; your sister was thirteen,” Nikki points out. Tommy’s expression, defying all expectations, gets even more bitter.

“She’s vicious,” he says in his own defense, “go get Vince, he’ll tell you I’m good at it.”

“What does being good at _Knife Monopoly_ mean?” Lola finally steps into the conversation, hands also dyed a bright, eye-catching red to match the ends of her hair currently in a messy bun atop her head. Unfortunately, she seems onboard with the whole idea.

“It means Vince got stabbed a lot,” Charlotte fills in, and Tommy’s back to grinning and nodding.

“How about it, Lo?” He’s all enthusiasm, and Lola shrugs, which he takes as a yes. He then proceeds to ask each of them if they’re in, without waiting for an answer, and practically bolts into the spare room where Vince was desperately trying to sleep off a hangover. 

“ _Knife Monopoly_!” He announces at the top of his lungs, hanging off the doorframe. It’s like he’s fifteen again. Charlotte, whole body heavy with resignation, makes her way to the phone to call up Peach and Eileen. From the other room, the other three all hear Vince groan loudly.

“No rib stabbing,” is his only groggy stipulation, and Tommy literally cheers. 

Peach and Eileen show up within the hour, with a bemused Mick in tow, both women wearing near-identical disapproving scowls.

“We don’t have enough knives,” Nikki muses, looking at them, but Tommy’s acting as if their arrival means the end of the world.

“ _Charlie_ -” he tries again.

“Moral support, Thomas.” She doesn’t leave any room for argument, and then apologizes to both redheads. After a beat, the anger cracks away to resignation from Eileen, who Eileen opens her bag to reveal a swathe of gauze tape and a bottle of vodka, “just be glad I didn’t call your sister.” Charlotte adds for good measure, but Tommy just flips her off. 

Peach, on the other hand, realizing that the game hadn’t even started, turns from disapproving to excited.

“Wait, so I get to actually play this time?”

“ _Peach!”_ Eileen groans, but Tommy’s offering her a place in the game. She’d always had to help clean up the aftermath; it’s easy to be disapproving when bandaging your not-boyfriend’s sliced up bicep, it’s another to be able to get drunk and play for yourself.

Lola gets out of the shower drying her freshly dyed hair, only for the body count in the apartment to have almost doubled; she takes it in stride, and actually parrots Nikki’s concern about a lack of knives almost word for word. 

“If someone can drive me to my motel I can borrow some steak knives from the kitchen,” she offers, much to Charlotte and Eileen’s growing horror. Someone suggests making a night of it, of ordering pizza, getting booze, and collecting more knives before they start, and it seems almost everyone else is in agreement, even Mick, who, as Lola points out, would take any opportunity to stab the rest of the band, even a little bit.

“I hate them,” Eileen mutters to Charlotte, the two of them sharing vodka with Mick in the kitchen. Charlotte hums in agreement, watching as Nikki and Lola went to collect knives, while Vince and Peach went to pick up pizza and booze, which left Tommy to find the Monopoly board. 

“Fuckin’ teenagers, the lot of them,” Mick chimes in, but there’s something amused in his gaze, and Charlotte sighs deeply and tells him not to indulge them. He shrugs, as if he can’t help himself, as if the damage is already done, and it is.

There’s actual knife wounds in the board, holes of considerable size.

Charlotte doesn’t know why now, of all the time she’s known them, that she’s finally hit with the realization that her closest friends might be the absolute dumbest people she knows.

The premise of _Knife Monopoly_ is simple; any and all disagreements are settled with a knife fight. Disagreements can range from establishing rules - _yes, that early on; there’s been several times where he’s never even made a roll and the game is over_ \- to disputes about rent, about whose turn it is, and most famously, substituting auctions for knife fights. Usually Tommy’s only played it with one opponent, so it’s elated to maybe not get stabbed for a few rounds. The knife fights aren’t serious, no-one’s allowed to go in for the kill or anything dramatic, and if someone quits, you have to respect that and stop going after them, but once they’re out, they’re not allowed to rejoin.

Peach and Vince get back first, loaded up with food for the whole pack, and Charlotte watches through narrowed eyes as Tommy pulls Vince to the side after he’s set down all the pizzas. They’re plotting something, judging by the conspiratorial whispering, and their suddenly shifty gazes.

“Charlie,” this time her name is a question when Tommy asks it, and Charlotte turns her full attention to him and the blonde crowded together in the corner of the room, “do you think Nikki and Lola...” he hesitated, “what do you think their pain tolerance is?” He decides on, none too subtly. Charlotte, when she considers his question, can’t help the way her lips twitch in amusement, understanding exactly what was happening.

“You’re both going to lose.”

“Ye of little faith,” Vince clicks his tongue, nose in the air, and Charlotte suppresses the sudden murderous intent that surges forth in her. Probably not the best situation to be feeling murderous in.

“You’re knife fighting Nikki and Lola,” Charlotte smirks instead, “you’re going to lose.”

Neither of them like that she kind of has a point.

The two in question finally get back, a canvas bag full of steak knives in tow, which are quickly passed out, and dinner and drinks are distributed and eaten as the rules are explain. Mick’s balancing the tip of his knife against his knee where he’s sitting in the armchair, a single finger keeping the utensil aloft, regarding them all like he’s wondering who he should go for first. In contrast, Tommy and Lola are already being absolute idiots, and trying to balance their knives on their noses, thankfully handle first.

Charlotte picks up her knife.

“I want it noted that this is a absolutely terrible idea,” she’s points the knife at Tommy, and he cheerily tells her ‘ _then quit’._ She stays in the game to prove a point to him, and takes another shot.

They roll the little plastic dice to see who goes first, and when Nikki and Vince both roll a ten, instead of rolling again, they’re both already down to fight. Except that Nikki’s got this gleam in his eyes that can mean nothing good, and is holding his knife like he knows exactly what to do with it.

There’s a moment of jousting, of metal against metal, then plastic, then Nikki’s blade slips past too quick for Vince to catch, and there’s a cut on his bicep. Tommy calls out that the fight is over, and Nikki boos him, but Lola pulls him back.

“Calm down, Jason Voorhees,” she rolled her eyes, and pokes him with her own knife. Nikki, obligingly sat back, and devoured another slice of pizza as he rolled his first turn.

The first turn goes smoothly, probably too smoothly, though Charlotte wouldn’t lie that her heart was in her throat the whole time she was moving her piece. Any objection would be met with someone’s injury, as says the rules.

When Lola takes her second roll, these rules are exploited.

“No.” Nikki tells her as soon as she totals the numbers on the dice. Lola checks her math. Eight. Two fours.

“Yes? Eight.” She answers slowly, with a frown. Tommy can already see where this is leading, and watches with wide eyes and baited breath. Nikki flips his knife, and points it at Lola.

“ _No.”_

_“_ How high are you?” Lola does not yet realise, it seems, and Nikki raises his eyebrows, claiming that that’s not the issue, “are you starting a fight because you’re bored?” Lola snickers, finally, and the way Nikki’s lips twitch at the corners betrays his intentions. There’s no way he would have started this over something so ridiculous with anyone else.

“I like this game,” Nikki turns to Tommy, and the moment his attention is pulled away, Lola lashes out with her knife, tearing his pants and leaving a thankfully shallow wound against his thigh. Nikki, surprised by the altercation, goes wide-eyed with shock, clutching his leg, mouth agape as he watches Lola smugly move her piece eight places forward.

“ _Yes_ , eight,” she says simply.

It was a dirty move, but Nikki’s expression turns to a disbelieving grin. Eileen hands over a roll of tissue paper. Everyone else is quiet, can’t quite believe what they’d just witnessed.

“Fucking knew you guys would be killer at this,” Tommy exclaims with a breathless grin, picking up the dice. Lola leans over and presses a sweet kiss to Nikki’s shoulder, and he, in turn, pets her head with the hand that’s not holding tissues to his fresh wound. 

Alcohol goes a long way to dulling the pain, but everyone now seems to be playing strategically; Eileen’s not playing, just watching with amusement, while her little sister uses Vince’s fondness against him. Peach gives him a doe-eyed pleading look, and when he starts to lower his weapon, she gives him a considerable cut by his collar. It’s not his first of the night, and after both the cut, and her underhanded tactics, he’s the first to bail out. Eileen takes him to the bathroom to be properly cleaned and bandaged, while Peach wears a smile so oddly reminiscent of thirteen-year-old Athena, triumphant. 

Mick appears to be biding his time, not challenging anyone, and no-one appears to want to challenge him, considering how unnerving he’s been acting for most of the game. Tommy and Charlotte end up challenging each other surprisingly often, and though he goes easy on her when he gets the upper hand, Charlotte still ends up with a collection of little wounds littering her skin; she can’t deny the adrenaline rush the arsenene game grants it’s players, maybe it’s why she hasn’t quit yet. 

Tommy’s holding his own against Lola and Nikki surprisingly well, and there’s no denying that the three of them are the worst off of the lot; Nikki and Lola challenge each other like it’s not a game involving knives, like it’s just a normal Friday, and Charlotte quietly thinks that there’s something deeply wrong with both of them. At least they go much easier on everyone else. 

“Alright, pay up, geezer, that’s four hundred you owe me,” Lola’s grin is all teeth when she turns to Mick, marking up the price for rent on her hotels, expecting him not to fight back. She’s been extorting him all game, and somehow he’s still playing. 

“I think you owe me four hundred,” Mick answers with a sharp little smile, sitting forward in the chair, finally holding his knife like a weapon. 

“Is that a _challenge_?” Lola should _not_ be this excited at the prospect. Mick raises his eyebrows at her, holding out his hand.

“Unless you’re willing to just hand over that four hundred without a fight.” 

Lola’s on her feet in a flash, bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready and waiting for Mick to stand and face her. She’s passing her knife from hand to hand, far too eager, but Mick simply takes in her stance, and throws his knife at her, aiming for her arm, as to not hit anything too vital. There’s not enough force behind the throw to leave the knife actually in her, but it leaves a considerable gash in her shoulder.

“I quit,” Mick announces, while Lola marvels at the wound with what seems to border on excitement, “I already know I can’t win,” he shrugged easily. Lola and Tommy both boo at him.

“Drummer, you’re not gonna win when two of the five remaining players get off on shit like this,” Mick says bluntly, “and it’s not you or your cousin.” Vince crows with laughter, but doesn’t disagree. 

When Tommy looks to Lola, she’s glaring at Mick while Nikki dresses her wound. 

“I can try,” Tommy musters all his strength, only for Charlotte to cut him down.

“No you _can’t_ ,” she practically orders, “ _yes_ that’s a challenge,” and she reaches over and cuts his palm before he can even react. It’s a dirty, underhanded move, but technically it’s not against the rules. “This game is stupid and dangerous.”

“No fair!” Tommy frowns, plucking tissues out of the quickly depleting box.

“Is that a challenge?” Charlotte raises her eyebrows at him, and Tommy sulks, but finally quits, cradling his hand to his chest, and concedes defeat.

It’s a stalemate; Peach is relatively unscathed, Charlotte has collected a handful of scrapes, while Nikki and Lola look like they’ve rolled through broken glass and loved it. 

“You know what?” Peach announces, looking between Nikki and Lola, and Charlotte, like she’s interrupted a standoff, before anyone else rolls, “I don’t need to be stabbed anymore today, ‘specially not by you guys.” And she puts her knife down, raising her hands in surrender. 

And then there was three. 

Charlotte looks to the other two, leaning into each other and smiling in a way that was more than a little sinister, looking a little like a pair of serial killers sizing up their next victim. If it were anyone else looking at her like that, she’s pretty sure she’d be overwhelmingly intimidated, but the only thing Nikki and Lola do better than give off a ‘ _don’t fuck with me_ ’ vibe to everyone else, is self destruct together. Which Charlotte is far too aware of to let it go unmentioned. 

“If I quit, will you two promise not to kill each other, and to never play this game again?” Charlotte asks, leveling her knife at the two of them. They share a look; Nikki shrugs.

“We do this shit for fun anyways,” Lola admitted, finally looking back at Charlotte, conceding, “we don’t need a game.” Vince groans like he’s just now realising the game was rigged from the start. Charlotte doesn’t really want to think about that too hard, instead focusing on the first half of her initial question.

“But if I quit -”

“We both win, we’re a team,” Lola snorted.

“You stabbed each other more than anyone else!” Eileen looks like she wants to hurl them both through the window, but is kind of afraid they’d enjoy it.

“I hate you both so much,” Charlotte sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. She deliberately sets down her knife, “I quit. _Knife Monopoly_ is officially banned.”


End file.
